


The Spaces In-Between

by spaceorphan



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Canon Fill-in, Coming-of-age, Friendship, Love, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, mostly canon-compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-18 07:50:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17576837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceorphan/pseuds/spaceorphan
Summary: The story of Kurt Hummel's life in the spaces between what we saw on the show -- goes through the entire series, and follows his adventures throughout, including falling in love with Blaine, his friendships with Mercedes and Rachel, and his relationship with his dad.





	1. Mr. Cellophane

**Author's Note:**

> So - this is a super ambitious project that I'm really excited to be writing. Essentially, each chapter will cover an episode of the show, and fill in what we didn't see on screen. It'll be a little while before Blaine comes in, but we'll get there!! Meanwhile, I'll continue to add tags as more characters arrive -- pretty much everyone involved in Kurt's life will show up eventually ;) 
> 
> Thanks to Snarkyhag for the beta - she makes all my work better <3

Kurt is sitting in the guidance counselor’s office.  Ms. Pillsbury fidgets, taking careful time to rearrange her pencils, straighten her pamphlets, and push her stacks of paper so that they’re all evenly spaced out on the desk.  Kurt remains still, back straight, hands clasped in his lap, watching her precise movements with mild interest. Ten minutes go by without a word. He’s not entirely sure why he’s been called into the office but, if it means being excused from one of Mrs. Hagberg’s boring history lectures, he’s not going to complain.  

After making sure the paperclips are neatly stacked, Ms. Pillsbury finally looks up at him, eyes wide and unnervingly eager.  “Kurt, thank you for stopping in this morning. I’m not entirely sure how we managed to miss you last year, but I assure you, I am here to help you along this wonderful and complex time that is high school.  I remember when I was in high school and there were all these emotions and changes. It can be a very confusing time. And that’s why I am here - to help you through all of that. Or at least academically. But, if you ever need someone to talk to, I mean about all the things that might be changing I, um, I can do that, too.”  She’s animated, nervously almost as her hands flow around as she talks. “You may think I haven’t noticed you around, Kurt, but I have. I promise you, I have, and I am so sorry we missed a conversation your freshman year, but I think it’s time we chatted.”

Kurt remains still.  Is he supposed to say something? He isn’t sure what his role is here, so he sits and listens, and holds his breath as she flutters through her pamphlets.  Oh god, she’s not going to try to talk to him about _the_ _thing_ is she? The thing he never wants to talk about.  The thing that he knows about himself?  That’s for him to know only.   It gives him an ache in the pit of his stomach just thinking about it. She can’t possibly know about the thing.   _Of course she does, everyone does_ , the voice in his head taunts him, _the way you dress, your voice, how could they not…_   He breathes hard, shutting that voice down.  

Ms. Pillsbury hands him a pamphlet.  Thankfully, it has to do with academics and not with anything… more personal.  He takes it and smiles weakly at her. “I see that you’re taking all of the core classes you’ll need to graduate, and that’s great but have you given any thought to what you’d like to do after graduation?”

She asks as if it’s a guarantee he’ll make it to graduation.  He can barely manage to get from one day to the next. He doesn’t care what he does after graduation, as long as it’s get away from here.  Away from this place, this hell hole of a town.

She’s waiting for him to give an answer.  He isn’t sure what to say.  “I haven’t given it much thought,” he says. Though in the back of his mind, a far away dream flashes in his head.  He sees the old musicals, the ones in black and white, where classy actors are dressed in fancy clothes. The ones he used to watch with his mom; happy people singing happy songs.  Only he's the one up there on that stage, singing the songs he has long since learned the words to. Others are laughing with him, applauding him, making him feel loved and accepted.  The thought fades quickly, and he’s back in Ms. Pillsbury’s dreary office, back in the never changing world of Lima, Ohio.  Dreams are just dreams, he’s often told himself.

Ms. Pillsbury frowns.  “Well, it’s early yet, you still have some time to decide,” she says.  “However, academics isn’t the only important aspect of high school. Socialization is also important.  Could I interest you in an extracurricular - marching band? Or maybe speech and debate?”

“No,” Kurt says sharply, as much to his own surprise as Ms. Pillsbury’s.  He’s fine on his own. He’ll make it through. He’s been on his own his entire school career so far.  He’ll be fine. It’ll be… fine.

Ms. Pillsbury opens her mouth to speak, but is abruptly interrupted when _the_ Rachel Berry storms into the room, wailing at the top of her lungs, fat tears streaming down her cheeks.  She flounces into one of the chairs, not paying any attention that Kurt is in there as well.  A perplexed Principal Figgins is right behind her, attempting to console her, but Rachel Berry will hear none of it.

“You don’t understand, I saw it, I saw him,” Rachel says, moaning as she rolls from side to side in the chair.  “It was horrible. Mr. Ryerson touched him. Touched him!”

Principal Figgins looks to Ms. Pillsbury for help, but she’s just as at a loss on how to help the girl.  Rachel swings her arms out wide over the arms of the chairs, narrowly missing Kurt. He leans away as she continues her rant.  

“It’s wrong I tell you, just wrong.”  She then suddenly sits up straight, stopping herself mid-cry.  “And I am not being homophobic because I have two gay days and their love is pure and homosexuality is a natural state, so I assure you that my complaint is completely about Mr. Ryerson a teacher - A TEACHER - inappropriately touching a student, and the gender of said student is not in question or relevant, as it is not proper for anyone of higher authority to touch - nay _caress_ \- a student, especially when it took so long for me to convince that student to be a part of that group in the first place.”  Monologue given, Rachel falls limp in her chair, and begins her tears again. “He should be fired. Fired! And a suitable replacement for glee club must be found.”

Principal Figgins’ and Ms. Pillsbury’s jaws drop slightly.  Kurt, loathed to admit it, is impressed she said it all in one breath.  And even more impressed that the adults were buying the show. Rachel Berry may have been annoying, but she does know her craft, and he has a shred of respect for her because of it. 

As Rachel continues her anguished cries, and the adults scurry around in attempt to calm her down, Kurt manages to slip out of the office unnoticed.  If he’s lucky, Ms. Pillsbury will forget about their conversation, and he can continue his forced existence on his own terms.

Rachel’s wails fade as he heads back to class.  His day, it seems, resumes its normal monotony.

*

“Hudson, Hummel, Jones, and Lopez, table three please.”  

Kurt’s heart skipped a beat, alphabetical assigned seating is something that Kurt doesn’t mind so much.  There’s nothing about his second hour chemistry class that interests him, but spending all year sharing a table with hottest guy in school (even for a jock) makes it bearable.   Finn Hudson is the only guy in this god awful place who’s never treated him like shit, has occasionally been nice to him, and is so incredibly handsome. (The last thought he keeps buried to himself - no one else can know!)  As they head to the table, Kurt gives a ghost of a smile to Finn. Finn awkwardly nods as he sits on the opposite side of the table. Kurt’s already thinking of ways he make their hands touch as they will undoubtedly will have to hand off beakers.  

Mercedes Jones sits in the spot next to him.  He doesn’t know Mercedes very well, but she’s always been friendly, and he’s grateful that it’s not someone unbearable like Rachel Berry.  Santana Lopez slides into the last spot across from him just as the bell rings. Finn tries to say hi, but she ignores all of them as she gets out her phone and texts during the entire lecture.  

Half way through class, Santana gets up and goes over to table five, switching spots with Noah Puckerman so she can sit next to Brittany Pierce.  

“Looks like you got stuck with the loser table, Finn,” Puck jokes as he sits down.  Kurt shoots him a glare but says nothing. Finn rolls his eyes. “Good thing Santana promised to blow me after school if we switched cause not even you can save this group of morons.”

“Hey, I am not a loser,” Mercedes says, wagging her finger at him.  Kurt’s never heard her be forceful with anyone, but she is not backing down with Puck.  He secretly likes it but remains silent. “The only loser at this table is you.”

Puck flippantly waves her off.  “Whatever. You guys are lucky that ole Puckzilla has joined you.  I’m awesome at chemistry. I have chemistry with every girl in this room, hell this school.”  

“Gross,” Mercedes says under her breath. Kurt faintly smiles.   

“I’ll bet I even have chemistry with your mom,” Puck says, getting into Kurt’s face.  

“Dude, his mom’s dead,” Finn says.  It’s an unexpected show of compassion on Finn’s part that completely throws Kurt.  He almost throws Finn an adoring look, but there are too many people watching.

Puck ignores him. “Let me show how great I am with chemistry.”  For a moment, the entire table thinks he’s going to hit on Mercedes, but Puck surprises them by picking up one of the beakers full of a clear liquid instead.  

“We’re not supposed to touch anything,” Kurt says.  

“I didn’t think you spoke,” Puck says, swirling around the contents of the beaker.  “You sound like a fucking chipmunk. Now let’s see what happens when we do this.”

“No!” Kurt gives out a cry, but it’s too late.  Puck’s mixed the contents of two beakers together, and before anyone can stop him, there’s a loud pop.  There’s a burst of foamy liquid, and Kurt’s now covered in some kind of weird, stickiness. Puck’s covered, too, but doubles over in laughter when he sees Kurt’s gotten the worst of it.  “Are you a complete imbecile?” Kurt screeches, so that everyone in the room has not stopped what they’re doing to watch. “You could have gotten someone hurt. Or blown your ugly-ass face off.”  

Puck turns to anger on a dime.  “At least my _ugly_ face is better than your stupid fag self.”

“Hey,” Finn jumps in again, holding Puck. “Dude, don’t.”  

Kurt’s livid.   He doesn’t care that the entire room is watching.  He could take on Puck right now.

Mercedes, however, is the one who intervenes.  “Kurt, come with me, we should wash that off you.”  She puts a gentle hand on his arm. He goes to rip it away from her, but she strengthens her grip.  “C’mon, Kurt.”

He relents, gathers his things, and follows her to the bathroom, ignoring the stares of his classmates as he leaves the room.  Mercedes takes him to the girls’ bathroom. There’s no one there. Mercedes guides him to the sink, using paper towel to start cleaning up.  

“You don’t have to do this,” Kurt says, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His beautiful, blue, Marc Jacobs sweater is now ruined.  And he’s nothing but a loser, a faggy loser wanna-be. His stomach twists. He’s not worth it. She shouldn’t be bothering. “They’re just going to throw me in a dumpster later today anyway.”

“Nope, I don’t have to do this,” Mercedes says.  She clicks her tongue as she works.  “But I’m gonna do it anyway.”

“Why?”

She considers.  “Because that’s what good people do.  And I didn’t want you starting anything with Puck.   _He’s_ the one not worth it.  He’s nothing but a big jerk.  You shouldn’t let him get to you.”

Easier said than done.  

The door flings open, and in comes Rachel Berry, covered in purple slushie.  Like earlier, she’s crying, however this time, it’s not high hysterics. It’s a soft whimper that she tries to cover up as she comes up to the sink.  When she sees them, she bites her lip and turns away - as if that would make the whole thing less embarrassing.

Mercedes hands her a paper towel.  Kurt offers a knowing smile. Quietly, they clean themselves up.  No words were spoken. No words were needed.

*

Kurt returns home from school that day thinking that the day hadn’t been all that bad.  He hadn’t been thrown in the dumpster at all, he had aced his English paper that had been a study of modern musicians and fashion, and Mercedes Jones had waved to him at lunch. On top of that, Finn Hudson had stood up for him.  That alone earns a second of allowing indulgent thoughts - what it would be like if Finn had been a true knight in shining armor? And he could give Finn a reward… No. He smiles to himself, but he can't go that far with the fantasy. He blushes at the suggestion of the thought.   Still, it’s about the closest he’s ever going to get to a perfect day. So coming home, a weekend of solitary bliss ahead of him, life’s looking pretty good. Shame he’s cursed - because such feelings can’t last.

Upon pulling into his driveway, he sees what looks like people on his roof.  His dad isn’t home yet, and they haven’t hired anyone to be up there. When he gets out of the car to inspect, he sees that it’s Noah Puckerman up there with some of his meathead football friends.  

“Hey!” Kurt cries, slamming the door of his car shut.  “What the hell are you doing?”

Puck turns, revealing that they had taken some of his lawn furniture and had been nailing it to the roof.  What the _fuck_ is wrong with them? His dad is going to be so pissed off if he finds that up there.  

“You guys better get hell off my roof or I’m calling the police!” Kurt yells.  He’s so angry that he’s ready to climb up there and knock them down himself.

Puck doesn’t seem to worried.  “Hey guys, the lady of the house is home!” he shouts.  

Before Kurt can comprehend what’s going on, two guys - Dave Karofsky and Azimio Adams, pop up from where they had been hiding in the bushes and begin pummeling him with water balloons.  The football players howl with laughter as Kurt lets out a shriek. The balloons burst, and a foul stench emerges, telling Kurt that it’s not water in those balloons.

“That’ll teach you to get crap on me,” Puck taunts.  “Do you have any idea how long it took to wash that shit outta my mohawk?”

“You’re the one who blew the chemistry project on yourself,” Kurt yells.  

“Whatever,” Puck says, and motions for them to throw more balloons.  Kurt’s drenched in piss-smelling liquid.

He wants to die on the spot, wants to crawl in a hole and cry. Or maybe he’ll get back into his car and run them all over.  He’s not sure what would make him feel better. Kurt’s frozen on the spot, not really able to do either. Thankfully, the football players having had their fun, and probably out of balloons, take off leaving Kurt alone, covered in what is probably their urine.  

Kurt hurries into the house and changes, and god, he had just done the laundry.  He thinks about calling the police. But would they really help him? And then his dad.  No, his dad doesn’t need to know about this. It’s Kurt’s problem. His dad has too many other things to worry about.   He’d really like to take a shower, but he’s got to get the furniture off the roof before his dad comes home, so he changes into some old clothes, grabs the toolbox his dad had given him for his tenth birthday, and heads up to the roof.  

Whatever the football players had done to the furniture, Kurt’s having a hard time pulling them off the roof.  After a half-hour, and only successfully pulling up one of the chairs, Kurt grows frustrated. Why did they have to pick him? There are plenty of other dweeby kids at school.  What about Artie - the guy in the wheelchair? Or a freshman? Or, god, even Rachel Berry seems to have it easier than he does. He’ll take purple slushie any day over this. What is it about him makes it such an easy target? Why can’t everyone in this stupid, fucking town just leave him alone?  

Kurt takes the hammer he’s been using and starts wailing on the side of the table.  It’s making a loud noise, if anyone is around, they’ll surely hear him but he doesn’t care.  Clank! Clank! Clank! Beating the leg of the table doesn’t seem to help, so he tries kicking at it.  He’s able to push it loose, but with one final kick, he knocks it right off the roof and onto the ground with a thud.  Kurt then slumps down and begins to cry. He’s so angry and frustrated and sad that he just doesn’t know what else to do.  He sits there, curled in on himself, rocking back and forth. What else can he do?

Kurt peers over the ledge of the roof, and for a moment - just a moment, he realizes he can just throw himself over.  No more, Kurt. The end of his sad and pathetic life.

But the moment is fleeting.  The house isn’t that high off the ground, his logical brain kicking in tells him.  At most, he’ll suffer some broken bones. Well, at least that’ll get him out of school, right?

His phone buzzes, pulling him back.  It’s his dad. God - his dad. He hurries to answer.  “Hello?”

“Kurt?”

“Yeah, Dad?” He wipes his tears away, trying to sound like everything’s fine.  

“Hey, kiddo - I’m gonna be late tonight,” his dad says.  “Some lady got in an accident, nothing major, just wants this thing done tonight cause, apparently, she just has to get to Toledo tomorrow.  Anyway - since I’m gonna be late, why don’t you start dinner, okay? I’ll be a while, so go ahead and do that fancy dish you’ve been talking about.  The coke and vine thing?”

“What? Oh!” Kurt manages a forced laugh. No jumping off the roof for him - he’s got to take care of his dad.  “Coq au Vin, Dad. It’s a French chicken recipe that takes about eight hours to make.”

“Oh, well, whatever, order a pizza or something.  Just have it ready for when I get home, okay?”

Kurt nods, though his dad can’t see him, and chokes back more tears threatening to release.  

“Kurt? You okay, buddy?” There’s concern in his dad’s voice - it’s comforting.  

“I’m just contemplating side dishes,” he says, feigning poise.  

“Okay, I’ll be home around seven.  Love ya, kiddo.”

“Love you, too, Dad.”  

Kurt takes a deep breath and collects himself.  First the lawn chair, then a shower, and dinner, and then he’s going to focus all his energy in getting the hell out of this town.  Some day, he believes - he really, truly does, it’ll all be better.


	2. Le Freak

“You want to give them what?”

Has Rachel Berry lost her freaking mind? She actually wants them - the losers and the freaks and, well,  _ him _ to get out in front of the school and try being sexy? Kurt’s having a hard time even comprehending the suggestion.  Mr. Schue’s insistence of disco had been bad enough. Kurt would almost want to wear those frilly costumes now. At least disco wouldn’t include  _ gyrating _ .  Rachel, however, seems to have all of this already planned out.  

“Look, I know this sounds crazy but it’s a proven fact that the one thing that most teenagers have on their mind is sex,” Rachel says, delving into another of her now infamous monologues.  “And just think about it - it doesn’t matter who we are, if we’re losers or lame or if they hate us. It’s a chance to perform, and it would be a performance that gives the student body something they aren’t expecting, something they all want -- something that would automatically make us look cool.  Think of how our statuses would sky rocket if we went out there and showed that we, too, could be sexy.” 

She looks directly to Finn, for guidance? Leadership? Approval? It dawns on Kurt why she’s really doing this.  Sure, they all care about their statuses to a degree, and disco would be a certain level of humiliating, but it’s clear Rachel’s manipulating things so to be closer to Finn.   Gross.  _ Oh, like you wouldn’t have tried the same thing if you had the chance. _ Well, she doesn’t have to be so blatant about it.  Or drag the rest of them with her. 

The rest of the group doesn’t seem to have the same reaction Kurt does, however.  Artie’s on board in a second. “Sexy, I’m always sexy, yo!” 

Tina takes follows Artie’s lead like a lost little puppy.  “I-I-I can d-d-do sexy. I th-think?” 

The real deciding factor is Finn, who’s hesitantly interested in Rachel’s suggestion.  “We should try it,” he says, much to the twist in Kurt’s gut. “I think Rachel’s idea might actually work.  And let’s face it - we all suck at disco.” 

“Yeah, disco is so gay,” Kurt says, much to the surprise of everyone else.  What? Gay?… it’s just a word. Isn’t this being cool? Isn’t this what Rachel’s doing by suggesting selling sex?     


Ugh.  The whole glee club thing is not supposed to be this complicated already.  Joining felt like a haven, a place to be among people like him - a place to belong.  For the first time in, maybe forever, Kurt’s had something to look forward to, something to enjoy, something that really lets him express himself.  And now he’s getting unwillingly pushed out of his comfort zone so that the obnoxious rom-com developing can continue its course. He isn’t sure how he feels about it.  

The song they choose is Salt-n-Pepa’s “Push It”, complete with Rachel’s over exaggerated and explicit choreography (with improvements done by Artie).  By default, he’s paired with Mercedes, but Kurt’s grateful for that anyway. 

“Don’t you think this is the most ridiculous thing we could be doing?  I mean miming sex acts? Really?” Kurt asks Mercedes on a break. In the corner, he watches as Finn and Rachel share a water bottle.  Finn playfully flicks some water at her. Rachel steals the bottle back. Ew. 

Mercedes, meanwhile, seems more relaxed about the whole thing than he expects.  “It’s just a performance, and nothing is as bad as that disco number. Besides - I think Rachel has a point.” 

Kurt whips his head towards her.  “You are not actually siding with Rachel Berry?” 

Mercedes rolls her eyes at him.  “I’m not advocating the sex part.  Do we really need to fake sex? Not really.  But the school should know that we’re more than just the loser label they’ve stamped on us. Why not play their game a little to show off how truly awesome we are?” 

“Huh,” Kurt contemplates.  Mercedes Jones continues to surprise him with her wisdom.   “Well, I just feel silly doing this stuff.” He’s a little sheepish in his admission.  

Mercedes takes pity on him.  “I’ve never done  _ it  _ either.  But we don’t have to be porn stars.  We just have to see what our favorite artists do.  I mean take Beyonce...” 

At this, Mercedes comes up to him, and places one hand on his back, bringing them really close.  At first, Kurt goes stiff. He doesn’t like people getting this close - he thinks about the times Puck’s put his arm around him, how many times that meant something bad is about to happen.  But Mercedes is definitely different. Her touch is light, her body close but not really touching. And she kind of rolls against him, but it’s gentle. And not scary at all. 

“It’s all about sensuality,” Mercedes says.  “Taking in the music and letting your body flow with it.”  

He tries rocking with her a few times.  It’s awkward at best, but since Mercedes is beginning to giggle, he finally cracks a smile and relaxes into it.  

“Alright, well you may have a point,” Kurt says letting out a laugh.  “I’ll just have to find my inner Beyonce.” 

“Mercedes Jones is always right.”

She pulls him in for a hug.  Kurt realizes it’s the first time anyone has given him a hug since…  He’s not sure when. It feels so much better than he expected. Mercedes is like a warm blanket on a cold day, and he leans into it, resting his head against hers.  He’s grateful for Mercedes Jones. 

***

They end up causing a sex riot at the assembly.  Kurt can hardly believe it. Mr. Schue is pissed, but it’s a win in his column.  From that point on, no more dumpster diving for him.

***

“Where have you been?” 

When Kurt gets home, he finds his dad sitting in his usual chair in front of the TV, a beer in hand, a bucket of KFC on the coffee table. 

“Dad, we have grilled chicken in the fridge,” Kurt says, throwing his bag on the couch.  

“Yeah, I was too tired to heat it up,” Burt Hummel says, as he flips through the channels.  “You still haven’t answered my question.” 

“I was with Mercedes Jones.”

Burt shoots him a confused look - as if trying to figure out if Mercedes Jones is a car he’s never heard of before.  “Mercedes?” 

“She’s a girl from my school.” 

His dad lightens at the thought.  “Really? Is she cute?” 

“Dad…” Kurt comes around the couch to flop down.  “She’s just someone I had coffee with after school.  Don’t start getting wedding bells in your head or anything.”  

Actually, grabbing coffee with Mercedes after school at the Lima Bean had been an unexpected delight.  They had gossiped about music and clothes and whether or not Tina and Artie were dating. It had been kinda fun.  It’s almost like having a real friend. 

“Good. You kids are way too young to be getting married.  You should wait until you’re at least thirty,” Burt says with a gruff laugh.  “Look, I’m glad you’re branching out from those people in the magazines you read - but you’ve got to tell me when you’re going to be home late, okay?” 

Hearing that he’s been out with a girl really took the edge off his dad’s lectures.  He’s almost smiling as he settles in on watching the OSU game. 

“Yeah, fine,” Kurt mumbles.  

“How’s school?” 

“We caused a sex riot and they had to shut the school down for an hour.” 

This is enough to grab his dad’s attention from the game..  “You did what?” 

An actual sex riot - where the kids stood up and cheered and weren’t at all put off by the singing weidoes.  He had even followed Mercedes instructions to go with the music. Everyone had been looking at him, watching how he moved, and they didn’t throw things or jeer or anything bad.  But - more so - he had had fun on the stage. He had let go, became one with the music and didn’t care what had been going on around him for once. He had even managed to throw in a slap of the ass to Finn.  It had been glorious. 

His dad’s face, however, resembles Mr. Schue’s when the assembly ended.  So what if the adults hadn’t been thrilled. He had had his first performance - his first real performance.  And people had cheered. 

“Okay, nothing big actually happened,” Kurt lies.  “We performed at the school assembly. It was fine.” 

Burt grumbles, and goes back to watching OSU fumble a throw.  “You wanna watch this with me, or you gonna hibernate again tonight?”  

“I have homework,” Kurt says, and Kurt thinks he might see a flicker of disappointment in his dad’s eyes. “But I can do it up here tonight.”  

He gets comfortable on the couch and opens up his bag.  He even decides he’ll have some of the fried chicken, though he’s got to get his dad to start eating the leftovers.  It’s been a good day, a good week even. Maybe, just maybe he can start to be okay with his dad, too. 

“C’mon, can’t you just throw the damn ball?” Burt yells at the screen.

“You know maybe your team would do better if they scrapped the whole red and grey look.  It’s not very flattering.” 

“Kurt…” 

“And buckeyes for a mascot? How is a  _ tree _ intimidating?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I originally was going to do this once a week - but you know what, I'm going to just post these as I finish them up - cause why not? Sorry in advance for the sporadic schedule. :)


	3. Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during Acafellas - Kurt checks out porn.

The Lima Bean is always a tad busier right after school.  Kurt’s hardly been in there - only a couple of times - and usually he makes sure to stop in when other people aren’t there.  But since he and Mercedes started becoming friends, he begins to frequent the little shop a lot more. Mercedes changes up her order a bit. Kurt, meanwhile, has discovered a massive appreciation for non-fat mochas because why not love yourself by indulging in a little chocolate every once in a while?  

“I cannot believe it’s only been a few weeks and New Directions is already a hot damn mess,” Mercedes chatters away next to him as they stand in line.  “The Cheerios joining, Mr. Schue leaving to start a boy band, and frankly Rachel Berry is getting a little out of control, even if I do think she’s right and we need someone to lead stat - even if it is that Stanley Dakota guy.” 

Kurt nods along but is only half paying attention.  Standing a few spots in line in front of them are Quinn and Finn.  Quinn’s arm is around Finn, and Kurt’s fixated on her hand, which lazily traces a circle on his back.  Finn is apparently stressed at the mere idea of choosing a drink, and maybe this is Quinn’s way of calming him down?  He doesn’t understand their relationship. Why would anyone want to be in a relationship with someone so hateful and controlling?  If Finn were his boyfriend, Kurt would definitely let Finn have a few choices - like what color of red the drapes would be in their apartment.  

Mercedes is still chattering about glee, which normally would have Kurt locked and engaged, but Quinn’s hand keeps moving south.  Eventually, it dips into Finn’s back pocket and stays and god knows what she’s doing in there. Is she actually caressing his ass in public?  That’s so disgusting. But he can’t tear himself away. There’s a part of him that wonders what it would be like to be that open. To just be able to touch someone like that in public.  What if he were the one who could touch Finn…

“Will you stop that? It’s distracting,” Finn says, loud enough that the entire line to hear.  He pulls away from her. 

“I am just trying to be a loving girlfriend,” she snarls back.  

“Well, maybe I don’t need so much love while we’re in a restaurant.”  Finn’s embarrassed, and looks around to see if anyone’s watching. Mostly not, but Kurt wonders if she had turned him on.  Unfortunately, his jeans are too baggy to tell. 

“It’s a cafe, idiot,” Quinn mutters under her breath.  

“I’m so glad we’re not like them,” Mercedes comments.  She’s snakes an arm through his, and pulls him close, resting her head against his shoulder.  

Mercedes tends to do this a lot.  He’s not quite sure what to think about her constant touch but she’s soft and smells nice and never asks too much of him, so he allows it.  He holds onto her as if she’s his armor, there to block any unwanted or unwilling attack. And it’s a comfort to know that there’s someone out there who isn’t instantly repelled by him.  

“Oh, how cute,” Santana and Brittany join the line behind them, and Santana doesn’t make it two seconds without shooting them a mocking look.  “Aren’t they such an adorable couple, Britt?” 

“I’m secretly jealous that I’m not in a relationship with either of them,” Brittany says softly.  

“Hi, guys!” Mercedes says, a broad smile on her face, as she curls further into him.  

Mercedes is much more tolerant than he is, Kurt would rather not give them the time of day.  Neither of them respond to Mercedes, instead Santana whispers something into Brittany’s ear causing her to burst out laughing.  It’s clear they’re being made fun of but Santana and Brittany can screw off for all he cares. 

“So, are you guys going to help out with the car wash tomorrow?” Mercedes asks.  

“Of course we are,” Santana says, barely looking up from her phone.  “Coach Sue is having the Cheerios help out because, let’s face it, the best payers are guys with sweet cars and lots of money - and they are totally not going to stop for you rejects.  They’re going to need hot girls to stare at. And while they’re staring, we’ll be taking all their money.” 

Kurt raises an eyebrow at her. “Of course you’ll whore yourself out for cash,” he mutters.

“I’m sorry, excuse me?” He should have bit his tongue but Santana’s wrath doesn’t scare him.  “Well, at least I have sex. And why not get paid for something I am clearly good at? I’m pretty sure the only people who would ever want to touch your clearly bedazzled-in-glitter dick are creepy, very closeted old men with a fetish for boys who dress like girls.”  

“Hey!” Mercedes cuts in before Kurt can tell Santana to fuck off.  “Leave Kurt alone, Santana.” 

She squeezes his arm tighter, almost protectively.  He doesn’t need her to fight his battles, but it’s a nice sentiment all the same. 

Santana eyes her sharply, but before she can say whatever wicked remark on her tongue, Brittany speaks up.  “Guys, let’s not fight,” she says. “We should go back to talking about car washes. I like car washes because it reminds me of when Santana and I take bubble baths together.”   

Wait, what?  Did Brittany just say that?  Santana gives her a livid stare, before pulling Brittany out of line to talk to her privately.  

“I wouldn’t listen to her,” Mercedes says, squeezing his arm tighter.  “I’m sure you’ll find someone… eventually. And it won’t be some old dude…”  

His first reaction is to tell her he’s not gay.  Because -- well, that’s what he should say, right?  But then he looks across the room to see Quinn and Finn cuddled in a booth together.  He’s got an arm around her, she’s looking up at him lovingly. No longer are they the bickering couple they were in line.  It’s almost as if they care about each other. His heart aches just a little. 

It’s not fair that way deep down, all he wants is to be in a relationship - to love someone who loves him back.  

He wants to tell Mercedes the truth… god, he wants to tell her - tell someone so badly.  And Mercedes, well, he trusts her. She seems safe, she would keep his secret. And, god, how much of a relief would it be to actually share this with someone.  

He wants to.  He really does.  But he just can’t.  Not yet. 

***

That evening Kurt is at his desk, on his computer, fingers hovering over the keypad hesitant to go through with it.  His dad’s out for the evening - some kind of late night inventory that happens a few times a year, which means he has the house to himself.  And wants to try an experiment. He wants to see, for sure, if it’s true. He wants to test if he really is… gay. 

So, he’s going to try out what most guys his age have probably already been doing for ages now.  He’s going to look up some porn. He feels a little weird doing it - like he’s doing something wrong.  But even his dad has a few risque magazines in his closet, and everyone has looked at porn at least once, right? 

Before he can chicken out, he goes to an incognito browser (so anyone can’t find out) and types in ‘porn’.  He quickly clicks on the first link he finds and - Oh. My. God. 

Big breasted women with their legs spread all the way open pop up everywhere.   There’s screaming and moaning and he quickly hits mute even though he’s alone. In the corner pops up a little window with an older woman without a shirt asking if he’s in the area and if he likes MILFs.  There are a lot of women kissing other women with their asses in the air, and women sucking dicks, and women playing with themselves. Body fluids just keep coming and… this is gross. So gross. Are people actually turned on by any of this? Are the people in these films actually enjoying themselves?  And how is she able to bend her leg like that? 

On the side bar there are a list of options, and dear god, there are a lot of specific types of fetishes.  He doesn’t even want to know what half of them are. With a deep breath, he clicks on the ‘gay’ link. 

Oh dear god… 

He isn’t sure if this is better or worse.   Now guys with huge dicks are shoving themselves into other guys’ various holes and… doesn’t any of this hurt?  There’s a lot of weird stretching and things that don’t look physically possible and, dear god, why are there so many tattoos in places no one should get tattoos? Then there’s the semen.  So much semen. Nothing about this is appealing. Maybe he isn’t gay at all. Maybe he’s asexual. If this is what sex is, then he really doesn’t ever want to do it. 

He flips through a few pages, seeing if there’s anything that he might actually want to watch.  He’s about to close out when something catches his attention. The thumbnail is not a huge dick ramming into an ass, it’s just two guys kissing.  He clicks on it. 

And is pleasantly surprised.  

It’s kissing.  Just kissing -- two shirtless guys in jeans.  One is a scrawny blond guy, who isn’t really doing anything for him.  The other guy, though… he’s a decent build, with dark hair and light eyes and he sort of reminds him of a real life Prince Eric from The Little Mermaid.  The room suddenly begins to grow really warm, his pants begin to feel a little tight. He tries to ignore it and just watch the kissing. 

And it’s nice - the way the dark haired guy has the other guy’s face cupped, the way it seems like they actually are enjoying each other.  The way it seems natural that they’d lie down on the bed together, and begin sliding their bodies against each other. His own dick begins to throb just a little.  He can’t tear his eyes away as the two men’s rocking becomes more frantic. 

Well, shit.  Shit, shit, shit.  

Then, the video is suddenly cut and it skips to the dark haired guy jamming his oversized dick into the blond guy’s mouth.  The porn loses its appeal, and Kurt clicks out of the website completely. 

Still.  The throbbing feeling isn’t going away.  The image of the two men making out and moving together is firmly locked in his mind.  

He goes to lie down on his bed and, for a moment, argues with himself about whether or not he’s actually going to do this.  It wouldn’t be like it was the first time. There have been a few times, in the shower, where he’s touched himself -- just to see.  This time feels a little different, a little more urgent. 

He gets out of his pants, but remains in his briefs, and lightly strokes himself through his underwear.  The touch is nice but it’s not enough. He closes his eyes and tries to think of a girl - but the first girl who pops in his head is Rachel Berry and that nearly kills the moment.  

He tries to think of Mercedes - what it would be like if he tried kissing her, if he cupped her chin like the guy in the video did.  He does care for Mercedes a lot - she’s his first real friend. She’s kind, and pretty, and stands up for him. But he can’t do it. He can’t see himself kissing her at all.  She’s not gross, she’s just… not doing anything for him. 

His mind suddenly shifts and it’s no longer Mercedes he’s kissing in this fantasy, but Finn.  And - wham! That does the trick, and his dick is now at full attention. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to think of Finn at all.  

Instead, he tries to think of the dark haired guy in the video.  What if that guy kissed him, deeply, like they do in the movies? What if that guy held him closely and said romantic things into his ear? What if he allowed that guy to reach down and touch him, stroke him, be gentle with him?

His dick is almost painfully throbbing now, wanting desperately to be touched.  Kurt’s hand is quickly in his underwear, grabbing himself, as he fantasizes that it’s the dark haired man’s hand doing the job.  His hips are soon arched, pumping frantically into his own hand. And it’s not long before his orgasm hits. He lets out a little cry, not being able to control himself.  He then falls back to the bed, feeling pleasantly dazed. 

When his mind clears, however, an unsettling feeling grows in the pit of his stomach.  

Yup.  He’s gay.  

He’s most definitely and undeniably gay.  

It’s not about his voice or his clothes or his love of cooking.

He’s sexually attracted to men.

Shit.  


End file.
